


Caught You

by sniperct



Series: Overwatch [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 10:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2618441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sniperct/pseuds/sniperct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on <a href="http://ladyilena.tumblr.com/post/102507419376/quick-overwatch-doodles-before-i-go-to-bed-the">this doodle</a> by Lady Ilena, Tracer leads Widowmaker on a merry chase, only to get caught.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught You

I’m having a day. One of those days where really, I should have just stayed in bed. It was _comfy_ there. Warmed by pleasant thoughts and daydreams. A place where you’re not trying to shoot my bloody head off. You’re trying, bless your heart. I almost think I’ve got you riled up. Or you’re missing on purpose, which is just silly, but as long as you’re focused on me you’re not shooting at anyone else.

Your scope glints, and don’t know what comes over me, but I blow a kiss in your direction. Maybe that’ll throw you off. Doubtful, you’re the calm and collected and brainwashed type after all. That’s why it’s so fun when I rattle you. Your shots go off just a few centimeters. That’s really all I need. I’m here and then I’m there and then it’s ten seconds ago and I’m behind you. “Little more to the left, luvvie, you almost got me.”

Maybe I’m seeing things, but there’s clear irritation in your eyes when you glare at me. Your eyes are gorgeous, like this unnatural amber-gold colour, and they’re more expressive than you’d likely care to admit. Most of my mates would call them yellow, but I’m a bit of a romantic you see. Amber-gold it is! 

You try to elbow me, but you’re too slow and I’m too fast. We’re too close for either of us to shoot each other and that’s just how I like it. At least when it’s us dancing, pet. We both prefer the comfort of range. Of peering down the sights and shooting our targets. They say you don’t feel shite. I don’t think they’re entirely right. You’re still human. Somewhere beneath it all at least.

I trip you up and leap away. It’s a merry chase. Me running, you leaving bullet holes in the bricks just behind me. Your zipline shoots past my face and I twist out of the way, but you grab my shoulder and pin me to the wall.

“ _Caught_ you.” 

You’re looking at me, into me, through me. I can feel the heat in my face and it’s going other places too. Your hand is cold. Everything _about_ you is cold and all I wanna do is warm us up. “Well cheers to you, then. What are you gonna do now that you got me?” I croak.

Kiss me, kill me, do _something_ besides look at me like this. Your eyes, usually so hard and cold like the metal that shares their colour, are instead soft and warm. I don’t know what you’re feeling but you’re feeling _something_. There’s a hint of confusion. You don’t know what you’re doing any more than I do. Are you Amélie , or are you the Widowmaker? We both wear masks. You’ve no choice. Yours was placed there by Talon when they tried to kill Amélie. Maybe some day you’ll get to see what’s under my smile.

“You’re warm.” I can feel every curve as you press against me. Lord help me but it would be kinder if you just shot me.

But I’m nothing if not stubborn, brave, and probably a little stupid. “And yer pretty cold, pet.” Never been so bloody terrified or turned on my life. I flash you my trademarked smile and the words spill out in a rush, “I could warm you up..” 

Frankly, I don’t know what I was expecting. Your lips are freezing, your breath like ice. How can you live like this? So frozen that you might as well be dead inside? The passion’s all on my end. I have to remind you what it’s like to be warm, what it’s like to feel something good and grande and _happy_. 

You’re not giving me much chance to escape. Your fingers start to dig into my shoulder and you’re kissing me with more pressure. I can feel the dam cracking in the way you move against me, and how your mouth opens just enough to let out the faintest whimper.

I’m _desperate_ to touch you, to warm you with my hands until your skin is healthy and flush, but the moment I try you pull out of reach. I nearly slide down the wall. Your cold mask is back in place but I can see through the cracks. 

I do what I always do. I put a smile on for the world. “Amélie?”

You shake your head and back up. “Don’t. _Don’t_." Another step, and then you’re gone, and I’m certain you’ve just taken a piece of me with you.


End file.
